Sterek: A Fluffy Tale
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Five moments of fluff between Stiles and Derek. A continuation of Sterek: A Love Story. -Beta'd by TheDevilDuchess-
1. The Derek ESP

**Okay, so I am putting these up while I work on my next, multi-chapter Sterek fic. I wanted to give you guys some fluff before I depressed you with my angst.**

**So, thanks for reading, I do not own what is not mine, and leave me a comment if you can.**

**See ya**

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"So, what have we learned tonight?" I asked as I opened my front door.

"You're an arrogant winner." Derek replied, the corners of his mouth tilting up.

"And…?" I prompted closing the door behind us.

"I should never play mini golf with you ever again." Derek stated following me up the stairs

"And…?" Silence followed my words. "Der, and…?" More silence followed, so I sighed and finished the sentence for him, "…and that you cannot play putt-putt to save your life, your dancing skills are subpar _at _best, and singing just isn't your thing."

"Are you done?" Derek asked as I opened my bedroom door.

"No," I replied, turning to face him, "I have plenty more to…" lips crashed into mine, effectively cutting me off. Hey, this was an activity I could get behind. Why did I need to talk anyway? Talking was blah compared to this; this was a _much _more efficient way to use my lips.

Stumbling across my bedroom, without breaking the kiss, I pushed Derek's jacket off his shoulders, and it fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Shoes were kicked off as we collapsed onto my bed. Derek landed on his back, and I maneuvered myself so I was sitting on him, staring down at him.

"Come on, Alpha," I spoke softly, leaning down to run my tongue across Derek's lips. "Show me what you've got." A playful growl came from the back of his throat and suddenly I was on my back, Derek lingering over me, smirking as his lips engulfed mine again.

"Not, not fair," I murmured between kisses, our ragged breathing intertwining together. "…used, used wolf powers." Derek strayed from my lips, and it took all of my concentration to keep talking. "Can't, can't always rely…"

"Stiles," Derek murmured looking down at me.

"Shut up?" I guessed, giving him a sheepish smile. A wolfish grin answered me, and my mouth was engulfed by Alpha lips again. I could shut up; I could totally shut up.

The kissing turned more intense, and my sweatshirt and Derek's Henley joined his leather jacket on the floor. I knew better than to get my hopes up. Derek had been vehemently against the whole 'sex thing' until my eighteenth birthday, and since that wasn't for another seven and a half months, I knew we were going to stop before anything 'life changing' happened.

"You, you know…" I started shivering as Derek's mouth found my neck. "You, keep…leaving hickeys…" I shivered again, my words turning into an involuntary moan. I gave up trying to talk, knowing it was useless anyway. I wanted to complain about the fact that I was starting to look like a leopard, and that it wasn't fair that the marks I left on Derek healed almost instantly, but that's what happened when I had a werewolf boyfriend; stupid werewolf powers.

"Stiles!" I suddenly heard my father call, and, in surprise, both Derek and I fell off my bed with a loud _thump_.

"Crap," I swore, scrambling to my feet. Derek and I began collecting his clothes. "Why didn't you hear him?" I hissed, shoving his Henley at him.

"_You _distract me," Derek retorted under his breath.

"Stop letting me," I snapped with a sigh causing him to roll his eyes. For a split second, I debated whether or not to shove him under my bed, but ended up shoving him out of my open window. Slamming the window shut, I jumped on my bed just as my father opened my bedroom door. "Hey Dad," I greeted, glancing up from an upside down magazine. I quickly rectified my mistake, grinning sheepishly.

"Stiles," my dad said slowly, eyeing me cautiously. "Is Derek staying for dinner?"

"What? Who said…?

My dad crossed the room, pulled the window open, and stuck his head outside. "Hey Derek," he greeted quietly.

"Hey," Derek responded softly, surprising me. You'd think the guy would have taken off once he realized he had been caught. Of course, he could have already known my dad was aware of him-maybe my father had some freaky EPS thing when it came to Derek or something-and just decided there was no point in running.

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"Yeah," he answered and my dad nodded. With a smirk, he lift an eyebrow at me and walked out of the room. As Derek ducked back into my room, I buried my face in my hands and fell onto my back. I should have shoved him under the bed.

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**Okay, so not exactly fluff, but the next two chapters are (I have them finished). So, expect a new chapter next Monday.**


	2. Nurse Derek

**Hey guys... it's exactly fifty-some minutes until Monday where I am sitting, so I decided why not put up another chapter to this story.**

**So, a huge thanks to: Wolflover1989, dianizx, SuchLovleyIrony, Tleighblack, thorsfriend, and Wolfgal97 for your reviews. You guys are awesome. Also thanks to everyone who alerted or favorited last chapter.**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and remember I do not own what is not mine.**

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I twisted my knee during Lacrosse practice, leaving me benched for a few days (big surprise there) and stuck on the couch because I could barely make it up the stairs. Derek had offered to carry me, like my own knight in shining (or in his case black) armor, but I declined. I wasn't going to _make_ him cart me up and down the stairs; no matter how much I'd enjoy it. He was a person, not my own personal pack mule, and I loved him too much to subject him to such mundane activities. Besides, I wasn't a damsel in distress (no matter how many times he's saved my life). Maybe I'll ask Scott later.

Since I wouldn't let Derek carry me up the stairs, he had taken it upon himself to take care of me while my dad was at work. I insisted I didn't need the help, I had crutches and could maneuver around on them pretty well, but he was hardheaded and I couldn't change his mind no matter how hard I tried. Apparently, that's something we have in common, but I just don't see it.

"Sit down," I demanded for the third time, accepting the soda he brought me. Helping out made him feel like he was doing something, made him feel less helpless, which was pointless. He hadn't hurt my knee, hell it hadn't even been due to something supernatural. For once, it was an _accident _but try telling that to Derek.

"You _do_ realize you can't watch me all the time, right?" I pointed out, glancing up at him.

"I know," he responded softly, apparently finding the floor fascinating.

"And it's not your fault I hurt myself," I continued slowly.

"I know," he repeated, his shuffling feet the only indication of his unease.

"And if you don't sit down right now I am going to whack you with my crutch," I threatened, even picking said item up to drive home my point. "Sit down." I hit the couch with my crutch.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bad influence," he confessed shrugging, acting as though it wasn't a big deal, but I saw right through him. I beamed when he sat down, putting the crutch back on the floor.

"Please, with friends like Lydia and Erica, you could never be a bad influence," I replied resting my head on his shoulder. "Besides, this is what I needed." I took a drink of my soda, making a face. He had brought me Cream Soda by accident. I wasn't a fan of Cream Soda.

"Is it the wrong kind?" he asked curiously.

"What? No," I responded quickly, taking another sip. "It's great." I fought to keep from coughing. I mean, the poor man was really trying, the least I could do was pretend I was enjoying the damn soda.

"It's not," he stated taking the soda from me. "I'll go get you another one." He tried to get up, but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back onto the couch.

"You aren't going anywhere," I ordered wrapping my hand around his wrist. "You are going to sit here, watch bad television with me, and tell me how pretty you think I am."

"Sometimes I wonder if there is a quota of words you need to get in per day," he said quirking an eyebrow at me but still leaning back into the couch.

"Shh," I said softly, waving him off as if he had been the one talking too much, turning my attention back to the screen, unconsciously sliding my fingers from his wrist to his hand, "Maury is on."


	3. The Bad Day Cure

**Okay, I am putting this up SUPER early because this is one of my favorite chapters, it was fun to write, and I just wanted to share it.**

**Anyway thanks to my reviewers: Wolfgal97, Jerry1492, ImAGirlNamedDale, WolfLover1989. You guys are awesome. Also thanks to those who alerted and favorited.**

**So, thanks for reading, I do not own what is not mine, and leave me a comment if you can.**

**See ya!**

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I was doing my history homework, hunting and pecking for the answers since I really didn't feel like reading the section, when I heard my window slide open. I was used to this, so I didn't acknowledge my Sourwolf at first.

It wasn't until I heard the dark grumbling that I put my pencil down, turned in my desk chair, and finally acknowledged his presence. "Problem, sweetie?" I grinned at the dark look he threw me. "Oh, Der, didn't you hear? Your face can get stuck like that." He ignored me, collapsing onto my bed, tossing his arm over his eyes. "Well, obviously you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." I stood up, crossing the room to lie next to him. "Come on, tell Stiles what happened."

I ran my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, waiting for him to say something, but he stayed stubbornly silent.

"So, you're going to be a Gloomy Gus tonight? Okay, well I guess I'll just have to do all the talking then." Continuing to run my fingers through his hair, I began to talk, "Well, today was an alright day for me. I managed to make Harris turn six shades of red. You'd think, now that I don't have his class anymore, I wouldn't see him as much, but the guy is frigging everywhere.

"Oh, and Finstock told me I didn't suck _nearly_ as bad as I had during our last practice. I am totally making progress. Greenberg will be lucky to stay on the team, but that's him and not me. Also, if I can keep my position I really don't feel too bad for him. Plus, he scored in the wrong goal like seven times today. I am beginning to see why the coach doesn't like him." My fingers strayed from his hair, and I began running them down the back of his neck.

"Lydia wants to get another dog because, apparently Prada is _lonely._ She wants to name it Gucci. I told her it was a bad idea, Jackson might get jealous, and he gave me this look that would have made you proud. I think you're starting to rub off on him. Next he'll be shoving me into walls and threatening to rip my throat out with his teeth. Your puppies are making so much progress.

"Oh! I was partnered with Isaac for an English project. You know, without him hanging off Scott like a lost puppy, he really isn't _that_ bad. He's actually pretty smart. I wonder why he keeps hanging around Scott. We both know he's not exactly the brightest." Derek dropped his arm, moving to burrow his face into my side. "I mean, the guy still has Allison as his user name and password. You'd think he'd change it to something different; maybe Argent; perhaps DarkHairedPsycho. I mean, we all know she has a psychotic side, but don't we all have a little psycho in our system; a little Norman Bates?" I let my fingers drift back to his hair again, letting them get tangled in the dark locks, as I continued talking, very much aware of his arm wrapping around my waist.

"Erica and Danny were partnered for English. I think she's trying to set him up with Isaac, but I can't be sure. I don't even know if Isaac plays for Danny's team. Though he does spend an _awful_ lot of time around Scott, and he doesn't really talk to any girls besides Lydia, Allison, and Erica. I mean, don't get me wrong, they'd be cute together… I guess. Though, Danny is more outgoing than Isaac, so he'd have to drag him to some of those dance clubs or whatever, but, hey, it could be good for him; get him out of the house more. They'd be a bit like us except I usually _just _make you watch stuff you don't want to watch. We'll never be dance club people.

"Oh, and since you are nearly done with the seventh Harry Potter book I was thinking about doing a whole day of watching the movies. Now, I have to warn you, they are nothing like the books. I mean, they are, but there are some inconsistencies that just drive me absolutely crazy. And I can't promise you I won't talk during the movies or that I won't say the lines. They are hard to resist and you can't stop me even if you tried." I became aware of Derek relaxing into my side, his breathing evening out, and I smiled at him.

He didn't have bad days often, though he had them more often than normal people, but when one got particularly bad he usually wound up here, just seeking an escape. He never really talked about his bad days, a few words here or there, but after a few hours of sleep he usually snapped out of his funk. He also told me that my voice was one of the few things he wanted to hear after a bad day. It was one of those cheesy things he said that I just couldn't tease him about; his face had been too cute, I just couldn't do it.

"Sleep tight, Sourwolf," I whispered to him, kissing his hair. He burrowed deeper into my side, making a cute little snuffle sound, and I sighed.

It was times like these that I could tolerate the silence, actually reveled in it. Now I just wish I had my phone so I could take a picture. Damn, why did it have to be _way_ over there? That's_ such_ a bummer.


	4. Lessons in Gaming

**A big thanks to my reviewers: lenail125, Jerry1492, Dianizx, and Charliee for their reviews :)**

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He was going to break it. I _knew_ he was going to break it. I seriously had to take it away from him before he broke it. I couldn't afford a new one.

"Okay, Der-Der, give up the controller." I yanked it out of his hands, ignoring his silent protest. "You obviously have no idea what you are doing."

"I told you I don't play video games," he argued running his hands through his hair in frustration, watching his character get incinerated by a flaming ball.

"Yeah, you said that," I agreed softly, fighting a grin. I hadn't thought he was _that_ bad, but apparently the words 'Stiles, I haven't played a video game since I was thirteen' actually translated to 'Stiles, I broke my controller over my sister head when I was thirteen and just haven't played ever since.' Okay, so I was guessing that's what it meant; I really didn't know.

"Look, it's not that difficult," I stated, keeping my voice calm, trying to avoid aggravating him further. Nudging his hands out of the way I slipped between his legs so I could sit down. "Give me your hands." He rolled his eyes but complied. I placed them on the controller, putting my hands over his, and then said, "Let's do this together."

"_This_ isn't distracting or anything," he muttered against my neck.

"Shush," I replied fighting a smile. This was a little distracting, but we could push past that little tid-bit. "Okay." I moved his left thumb against the left stick, "This helps you steer whether it be walking or driving. Since you are terrible at driving in this game, we'll just say it's for walking.

"This," I pressed his right middle finger into one bumper, "helps you shoot. While this one," I squeezed his left middle finger, over the other bumper, "helps you aim." I moved his right index finger, letting it hover over the trigger, "This helps you sprint, while this one," I moved his left index finger to the second trigger, "throws grenades and Molotov's."

"What happened to the Nintendo?" he asked curiously. "You know two buttons, a pad, and nothing else?"

"Seriously? The Nintendo? You were thirteen in 2002; you never played a Play Station or the original X-Box?"

"I liked…"

"Oh my God, I get it. You were a mega nerd who like reading over video games," I teased grinning when he threw me a semi-glare. "You really need another hobby, Der. All that reading cannot be good for you."

"What sort of hobby are you suggesting?" he whispered in my ear, nipping my lobe.

"I uh…" words escaped me for a moment as his mouth moved from my ear to my neck. I shivered, dropping the controller, trying again, "I take it-" I shivered again. "-that the lesson's over." He chuckled, putting his arms around me, pulling me against him, only to let me go in surprise when my front door flew open. I fell off the couch, springing to my feet a second later, watching as Lydia stormed into my living room.

She tossed her purse into my recliner, threw herself onto the couch, and practically shouted, "Jackson is such an ass!"

"What-" I cleared my throat, trying again, "What happened?"

As she started complaining about Jackson, very much unaware of what had just been going on, I took a seat next to Derek, only half listening. The rest of my attention was on the hand gripping mine. Derek squeezed my hand, silently promising me that our 'couch' activity was far from done. I squeezed back, letting him know I understood.

This was not how I wanted to spend my afternoon, listening to Lydia bitch about Jackson, but I took my role as one of her best friends very seriously and I listened. Though, I couldn't help thinking: _She has the worst timing ever._


	5. Sex Talk and Panic Attacks

**This is it guys! I'm putting these up now so I can get this story out of the way. I am already planning another, but whether or not it'll be Sterek has yet to be determined. So, thanks for reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting. You guys are amazing. And I really hope to catch ya in the next story.**

**Thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I do not own what is not mine.**

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I knew why my father made me swear to be back in twenty minutes; it was a ten minute drive to get to Derek's apartment (yes, he finally got an apartment after I bugged him for months about it) and a ten minute drive back. It wasn't even enough time to make out let alone have sex. Unless I drove like eighty both there and back, but I had had enough speeding tickets in my lifetime, I didn't need another.

"I don't think your dad likes me," Derek commented as I stopped at a stop sign.

"Nonsense, he _loves_ you," I retorted sarcastically, taking a left. Derek threw me the 'be serious, Stiles' look causing me to grin madly. "Seriously, he thinks you're trying to 'deflower' his only son. _Of course_ he doesn't like you."

"Deflower?" Derek asked bemused, raising his eyebrows.

"It's a word," I exclaimed.

"Yeah, for _girls_," Derek pointed out chuckling. "So, are you admitting you are…?"

"I'd stop talking if you don't want to walk home."

Derek grinned but fell silent. He looked out the window, his eyes locking on the half moon, and he softly said, "He's not exactly wrong, you know?"

"What?" I very nearly crashed my jeep into a parked van. I rectified my mistake, clenching my hands around the steering wheel to keep them from shaking. Did he seriously _just_ say what I thought he said? "I-I…" I was actually speechless. He wanted to have sex with me? Was I even ready for sex? I know I complained a lot about not getting any, and I talked a pretty good game, had even told Scott I wanted to have lots of sex, in many different position, for as many times as I could go, but did that make me really ready for sex? And sex with the Adonis that was _my _boyfriend? Holy crap, as many times as I had pictured it, and dreamt about it (oh some of those dreams… hmm) I never thought I'd freak out over the idea actually becoming a possibility.

"Breathe Stiles," I heard Derek say, and I was very much aware of the panic attack taking over me. With his help, we managed to pull my jeep over and put it in park. He pulled me into his chest, resting his hand on the back of my head, coaching me to breathe with him; in and out, in and out, in and out until I was calm again.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly, softly stroking my hair.

"F-fine," I stammered breathing in his scent. "That sucked monkey ass," I commented drily. I felt his chest vibrate against my cheek as he laughed and my face flushed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized after a long, drawn out silence. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You didn't," I said quickly, pulling away from him. "It's just…"

"You're not ready," he said slowly and I vaguely shrugged. "That's okay. Truthfully, I don't think I am either. I mean, Kate…" he trailed off, swallowing, looking away from me, out the window, his eyebrows furrowing. "That's one reason I've kept pretty close to that particular rule of your father's. But, now that you're eighteen..." he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

"We are so fucked up," I muttered running my hands down my face. He smirked in agreement, turning back to look at me. "So," I paused, putting my car back into drive, "_that _was embarrassing."

"Could have been worse," Derek replied, deadpan, and I snorted, pulling back onto the road.

"True," I responded quietly. "I could have had the panic attack during sex. That would have been worse especially if I passed out during the good part. That would have been a huge problem. I mean, how many people do you know who pass out during sex? I don't know any. Though, I had an uncle who died during sex. He was like seventy-five, and I wanted to be sad, but come on, he died during sex. And he was having sex with some twenty-three year old stripper.

"My aunt wasn't exactly thrilled about the prospect of my uncle dying during infidelity, but his son found it just as hilarious as I did. Yeah, I know, I have a weird family, but you can't…"

I was lucky I had just pulled up to Derek's building otherwise I would have crashed my jeep when my chin was gently grabbed and a pair of lips pressed into mine. When he broke the kiss, Derek leaned back and softly said, "We don't have to have sex to prove that I love you."

"Love you, too, Cheeseball," I replied grinning. Derek merely shook his head and got out of my jeep. "So, you haven't had sex in seven years?"

"Good night, Stiles," Derek responded closing the door.

"Seriously, you haven't had sex in seven years?" I called, grinning when Derek flipped me off. "That's so mature!" Derek turned, mouthed 'bite me,' and I snorted, putting my car into drive. I waited until Derek was inside (how very gentlemanly of me) before driving away.

Well, I had learned a few things tonight. One) I was not ready for sex no matter how much I said I was, and two) neither was the Cheeseball known as my boyfriend. I guess we really do learn something new every day. Though, when the time came, I vowed to make sure we were both ready to take that final plunge. I wanted it to be right, to not feel forced, and I wanted it to be with Derek. Even if it took him a few more years to be ready, or me for that matter, I could wait. I mean, I waited eighteen years, what's another few?

God, I must really love him.

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**This chapter, of course, ties right into The Power of Love. It's like a giant puzzle :)**

**See ya!**


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